If you're old enough to know who Forrest Gump is, then you know all about life and its box of chocolates. Well, I was in the Peace Corps six years before that movie and there was very little chocolate involved in my experience. When there was an occasional "CARE package" from home, everyone at the Post Office knew Peace Corps Volunteers always received chocolate of some kind. And, it must be said, even if a mouse ate a corner of some chocolate bar as the box sat in the Post Office, it never mattered in Liberia. Nobody ever wasted chocolate.

My mom sent Reece's Pieces, my chocolate of choice. However, on a day to day basis in Zwedru, Liberia, there was very limited chocolate. The only kind of "candy" available tasted like Halls eucalyptus cough drops. Yes, they are horrible. That is not real candy. And if that wasn't bad enough, in the tropical heat, they were also sticky. Somehow, my neighbor kids were thrilled whenever I passed them out. I don't understand how. I do promise you they were a whole lot happier when I taught them how to make no-bake chocolate cookies with treasured cocoa powder from the capital.

I still love no-bake cookies. Well, actually, it's hard to find a cookie I don't like. At a recent Returned Peace Corps Volunteer gathering, I grabbed more cookies than I should have before joining a group around a picnic table. I fell into conversation with a man from Cameroon. When I told him about my murals, he said, "You should paint murals in Cameroon."

I love the idea of returning to Africa. However, there is that pesky little problem about financing the journey. When I was informed that money should not be a problem, the guy had my attention. He said I should write to the U.S. Embassy in Cameroon. However, the letter should not go to the ambassador. I needed to write to the Public Affairs Officer. My community murals are so unique that there should be interest in the project as well as cash in discretionary funds.

Okay, that advice (and way too many cookies) happened on a Wednesday night. On Thursday I wrote to Cameroon. But, hey, I thought it might be wise to not put all my cookies in one basket. So, I wrote to ten embassies. On Friday morning, I got my first reply.

Yes, I know that was fast. When I first moved to Africa (pre-Internet, e-mail or Facebook), the fastest communication home took a month. It was two weeks for the letter to get home and another two weeks for the return if they wrote that same day. Nobody ever replied that quickly unless I told them about malaria. So, yes, instant (and even overnight) communication anywhere around the world continues to amaze me.

I know, I know, be careful what you wish for, but this was more than I could possibly have wished for. The reply was from the embassy in Liberia. The people from the embassy want me to paint two murals with Liberians who survived the Ebola outbreak! In my mind, anyone who survived Ebola should be considered a national treasure, but that isn't the case in Africa. Those poor people are stigmatized in society. The hope is that involving them in a community project will help with their re-integration.

It's already an amazing opportunity. But, it gets even better. One mural will be in Zorzor and the other will be in Zwedru. Yep, my Zwedru! After more than twenty-five years, a horribly violent civil war that ripped the country apart and that terrifying Ebola epidemic, I'm going back home. It's a trip that is so long overdue. Mama Gump was right; you never know what you're gonna get. So, pass me some chocolates to stow away in my luggage because I'm packing my bags for Africa.

P.S. If you happen to be too young and have no idea what I'm writing about, you need to know the most famous line out of Forrest Gump's mouth. "Mama always said life was like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get." Now, go rent yourself the movie and bring your own box of goodies.

Some people think chickens cross the road to get to the other side. I don't buy into that nonsense. No self-respecting chicken wants to cross the road at the risk of turning into cloud of fluttering feathers and a pile of smithereens. Every time a chicken - or a person - crosses a road, there is a risk of an accident happening. Itcan happen any time, any place or anywhere. Some day my number is going to be up. Yours, too. I am just determined that it shouldn't happen while crossing the street in Columbus, Ohio. So, I can say I've ridden the trains in Madrid and the tubes in London. I've sipped at cafes in Ougadougou, Casablanca and Manhattan. I will not spend my life "hiding in the hen house".

I don't believe we're meant to live as chickens. We are not meant to live in fear. Yes, there are some terrible people "out there" who do horrible things. But, the world is filled with so many more incredible people. When you go out and meet them, you'll see that we are a whole lot more alike than we are different. And, differencesonly make us more interesting, not threatening. So, I cross the road and then I cross the globe.

After the Paris attack in November, chickens wouldn't have even stepped on to the sidewalk. Forget about the road! But, I had a ticket to Europe and it was non-refundable. I crossed the globe.

I didn't go to Paris. I would have if I had the time. Instead, I went to Brussels. If you followed the news on your smartphone on that weekend, you would have known that Brussels was on lock-down with the highest possible terrorist security threat. Some kind of attack was feared imminent. But, I don't have a smart phone. With my dumb-ass phone, completely oblivious to the news of the day, you might say I was a dumb . . . er, uninformed traveler. But in my defense, my phone doesn't work overseas. My friends in Antwerp wanted to warn me.There was no way to communicate.

So, I hopped on the train to Brussels. Apparently, buses and subways throughout the city were shut down for the weekend. The trains worked just fine. But, when I walked out of the station, parked right infront of me was some kind of military vehicle. It wasn't a tank, but several policemen could easily have been inside, ready to protect and defend against whatever or whomever came their way. I took a left turn.

When I go to Brussels, I head to two streets where antiques are sold. I didn't see anything I had to buy. Whew! But, I had a very nice stroll in my favorite part of the city. Then, I decided it was time to wander towards the city center with its incredible marketplace. Things were entirely different the closer I came to the Grand Place.Stores were "mysteriously" closed for the weekend. I didn't know why. Streets were blocked off so no cars could get to the center. And police! All kinds of police with all kinds of fancy guns were all around the market!

I finally approached an officer and asked if he spoke English. I wanted to know if there was a specific threat or if this was just the "new normal" after Paris. The young officer spoke English, with the most delightful French accent, and shamelessly lied through his teeth. He said it was just the new normal. Well, new normal or not, Idecided it was time to return to Antwerp. You may disagree, but my mamma didn't raise no fool.

Total time spent in a locked-down European capital city - one hour and a half.

November isn't the best month to vacation in Europe. It was cold, wet and windy. I spent a lot of time sipping cappuccinos in cozy cafés. But, the reason for this trip was to visit with some good friends fromseveral countries. Mission accomplished and I safely crossed the globe back to the United States.

At customs, the officer asked if I'd recently been to West Africa. What? Why? I hadn't heard any recent news about Ebola. Was it back in Liberia? The officer informed me that Liberia was still clear, but Ebola had resurfaced in Sierra Leone. It just wasn't making the news any more. Well, that was sort of a relief to hear. Because, you see, the next time I cross the road and the globe, I'm going to Liberia to paint murals with Ebola survivors.

“Safety and security don’t just happen; they are the result of collective consensus and public investment. We owe our children, the most vulnerable citizens in our society, a life free of violence and fear.”~ Nelson Mandela, former president of South Africa